


The Other Side

by PersoMena



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Centaur AU, centaur!Logan, centaur!patton, centaur!roman, centaur!virgil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersoMena/pseuds/PersoMena
Summary: Kristie's a bleeding heart when it comes to centaurs.  She can't bear to see any of them being abused, neglected, or treated as less than human.  So she set up a program to give centaurs-for-hire in such circumstances a chance to finally live a little, finally laugh a little, and hopefully give them the freedom to dream a little.  (Yes, the title's a song reference.)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KieraElieson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraElieson/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Centaur AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384869) by [KieraElieson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraElieson/pseuds/KieraElieson). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone wants to mesh this with KieraElieson's Centaur AU, this chapter takes place before her Chapter 1 - way before, like maybe four or five parties ago.

Patton was resigned as he was driven to yet another party. Another day of little kids running around shrieking in excitement and patting his sides with sticky hands, such was his life.

The trailer stopped, and his groom opened the door. “Alright, come on Merry.” He stepped up and put Patton’s halter on, leading him out.

A teenage girl was standing at the edge of a distinct line where the gravel ended and the grass began. Her hair was brown and just barely touched her shoulders, while her skin was lightly tanned and her eyes were blue. “Hello! Sorry, no grooms beyond this point; I’ll take him from here.” Her voice was soft and friendly, but also quite firm.

“Oh! Um…” his groom hesitated.

“He’s friendly, right? So there’s no reason to worry about me taking charge of him.”

His groom hesitated for another minute. Then he led Patton over to the line and reluctantly passed the lead to her.

“Thank you.” She rested a hand on her hip. “Now I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than spend a few hours at a children’s party. You can come pick him up again at, ah…” she looked at her watch, “…three.”

“…Okay, I’ll be here at three.” He unhitched the trailer, got back into his truck, and drove away.

The girl looked up at Patton. “Hello, Merry, my name’s Kristie. First things first, is there some other name you’d rather be called?”

“Um…Patton?”

Her smile grew. “Okay, Patton. Now, the guests aren’t going to arrive for another half hour, so you can socialize and relax until then.” She gently tugged on the lead, guiding him onto the grass.

 _Socialize?_ Before Patton could really wonder, they passed under the archway and a picture on the beam caught his eye. It was perfectly at eye level for an average-sized horse centaur, so he had to look up to see it: a crude picture of a centaur with its mouth open and a word bubble near its head. He looked over his shoulder as they kept walking, and saw that on the other side of that same beam was another picture at about the same level. The picture was still of a centaur with a word bubble near its head, but now it had a red circle around it and a red line across it. _Does that mean what I think it means?_

As if reading his mind, Kristie spoke. “Yes, I permit centaur visitors to talk here. My only condition is that if you’re going to speak to _me,_ you need to make sure you have my attention. I know full well that I can be a bit easily startled, and I’d rather not start a chain of spook-and-react.” They got around to the barn, where no less than three other pony-size centaurs were chatting. “Hello, everyone, this is Merry Patton,” she declared with a wink as broad as the barn door. “Patton, these are Corvus Corbin,” she waved at a black male, “Snowflake Rebecca,” a white-bodied girl with gray flecks, “and Sunshine Daphne,” a girl with a horse body such a light brown it was almost golden, and blonde hair and tail. “I hope you all get along okay,” she reached up and unhooked Patton’s halter, “you three explain how things go at my parties. I need to make sure everything’s ready.” And with that, she walked off.

Patton glanced at them uneasily. The blonde smiled. “Don’t worry, Patton,” she extended a hand and patted his shoulder, “Kristie’s good people; she won’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to. This is Corv...sorry, _Corbin’s_ second party, and Rebecca’s third. I was the first centaur she did a party like this for.”

“…For?”

Daphne’s smile grew. “Yup. For as much as she says it’s a party for a particular kid, the party’s more for us. I’m actually excited,” she pranced slightly in place, “because last time I’d asked a little girl to paint my nails, and Kristie said that this time if I wanted I could ask to have my hooves painted!”

Rebecca smirked a little. “She also said you’d better get all your fidgets out first so that you could hold still for that.”

“I know, I know. I’ll ask the kids if they want rides first, and race around the field. _Then_ I’ll ask for the makeover.”

Patton still felt like this was too good to be true, but he chose to be cautiously optimistic.

Kristie came back, knocking gently on the door of the barn before entering. “Okay, I’ve got kids trickling in.” She spun a clipboard around and poised herself to write. “The activities are rides or races before lunch and dress-up after, yes you get a free lunch, and if you don’t want to do either activity you can just stand and let children pet you if they’ve asked and after they’ve washed their hands.”

Patton blinked. “You’d do that for us?”

“Of course; nobody likes being touched with sticky hands, and I can’t believe parents don’t think of that.” Kristie sounded miffed, but it also didn’t seem to be directed at them. “Also, when I said “if they’ve asked” I meant if they’ve asked _you._ It’s your body, you make the calls.” 

Rebecca sighed in relief and rubbed slightly at her horse-shoulder. “Good; I really don’t like how kids will just up and poke me without even a warning.”

“Okay, Daphne, you’ve been a regular the longest. What do you want to do?”

“I’ll sign up for both events. I want to be in the fashion show more, but,” she danced in place again, “I know I’m just too excited to stand still for that right now.”

“Alrighty,” Kristie wrote something on her board. “Daphne for both events. How about you, Rebecca?”

“I don’t want to get all sweaty,” Rebecca tapped a hoof, “but I’d backed out of both events last time, so I think I’d like to try the dress-up part this time.”

“Rebecca for dress-up,” once again Kristie wrote on the board. “Corbin?”

“Races,” he declared immediately, so fast that Patton looked sharply at the black centaur’s ankles. He was wearing some bright red socks. _Does Corbin spend all his time hobbled when he’s not working?_

“I figured you’d say that,” Kristie nodded as she wrote on her clipboard. “I’ll need those socks back before you leave, since I doubt your groom will appreciate them.”

“I know. …Thanks for putting treatment on my ankles, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.” Then she looked up at Patton. “And how about you, sweetie?”

“Um…”

“If it’s easier, you can just say what you don’t want.”

“…I don’t want water dumped on me.”

Kristie gave him a quick glance. “There aren’t any water games here, and the kids can’t bring their drinks with them when they come near you.”

“Okay…I think I’d like to try the dress-up. I mean, I’m not interested in actually _racing,_ but I don’t mind giving rides…but I don’t have a saddle. And…I’d like to tell stories, maybe.” _I wonder if she’ll let me._

“Okay, Patton for dress-up and storytime.” She wrote on the clipboard again. “I hope you enjoy your first proper party.”

  


Patton had an amazing time.

Kristie had taken measurements of his horse-back, led him into the back of the barn and carved an impromptu saddle out of furniture foam. Then she’d shown him some fabric swatches and let him choose a color, promising that she’d make sure the saddle would be covered for the next time she brought him here for a party. Since he couldn’t give rides, while Daphne and Corbin raced around the field with children on their backs he sat with Rebecca and the two of them let quieter kids pet them – and oh joy, Kristie reinforced her own rule of “Kids Wash Hands Before Touching Centaurs”!

When Patton decided he’d had enough tactile attention, all he’d had to do was look at Kristie and she’d announced that “Merry Patton” had a story for the children, and they’d sat down to listen. His story was taken with amazement, and then it was time for lunch.

After lunch, it was dress-up time. Children put on fun costumes, and gave the centaurs stuff to wear as well. He did watch as Daphne stepped carefully onto a large sheet of paper and just stood there while a couple of brave little girls also stepped carefully onto the paper and used nail polish to paint her hooves. Patton wasn’t sure where Corbin went during the dress-up segment, and he didn’t ask.

At about two thirty, Kristie called, “Okay, kids, the centaurs need to start getting ready to go home now, so it’s time to say goodbye.”

There were so many groans from the kids, but they did say goodbye. Many of them came up for hugs.

Once they were gone, Kristie walked over to the centaurs with their halters. “Here you go.” While they were putting their halters on, she approached Corbin and removed the socks from his ankles, revealing the marks on his legs. Then she glanced at Daphne. “Do you want to keep the painted nails and hooves, or should I go get the nail polish remover?”

“Oh, can I keep the nail polish? Please?”

Kristie laughed. “Okay, sure. It’ll just wear off through daily activity anyway, so if your groom and owner don’t mind it’ll be fine.” Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out four brightly-colored objects. “Here you each go: decorations for your halters.” She clipped one onto each centaur’s halter. Patton’s looked like a light blue heart.

About fifteen minutes later, a horn honked.

“That’ll be Daphne’s groom.” She clipped the lead on and led the blonde-tailed centaur out.

Patton looked at the other two. “Who _is_ she?”

“Kristie?” Corbin tilted his head to the side. “She’s a bleeding heart who can’t stand to see centaurs being treated like animals.”

Rebecca added, “She doesn’t just do this with children’s parties and small centaurs, I heard her mumbling to herself about needing to set up a spa day for some larger centaur who’s been working too hard.”

Patton was quiet as Kristie led Rebecca and Corbin out to their grooms. Then she came back to sit with him.

“…Kristie?”

A very slight flinch reminded Patton she’d asked him to make sure he had her attention before speaking to her, but all she said was “Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?”

She was quiet for another minute. Then she sighed. “I’m…not ready to talk about it. The vague version is, a centaur once did me a good turn when I was younger, and I’m…just wanting to return the favor.”

There was more to it than that, Patton was positive. That expression was one of pain. But if she wasn’t ready to talk about it, he wasn’t going to push. He hugged her instead. “I’m happy that you’re doing this for us.”

Right when he’d put his arms around her, she’d frozen. But after a second, she shifted and returned the hug. “Thank you.” Then she clipped the lead onto his halter. “Your groom will be here soon. Let’s be waiting out there for him.”

When three rolled around so did Patton’s groom. She confirmed that yes Patton had been on his best behavior, he was led into the trailer, and they waved goodbye to each other as Patton was driven home.

_I hope she schedules another party soon. Hers will probably become my favorite._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason Kristie froze when Patton first hugged her is because she's not really a touchy person, at least she isn't with humans and she hadn't had much physical interaction with centaurs so she hadn't established how she felt about them touching her (Patton's literally the first centaur to hug her in a long time, if ever). She doesn't hate being touched, it's just not the love language she generally prefers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a bit of an exposition dump about how Kristie goes about doing things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the exposition. I just really wanted to get this out of my head and "on paper."

“Okay, let’s see…” Kristie sat at her desk, making notes. “I should probably schedule another Worker’s Spa Day pretty soon, there’s so many people who tend to overwork their draft centaurs without even considering that even the largest brickhouse has its limits.” She gripped at her hair. “This would be way easier for me to do in more secret if I had a trailer.”

Secrecy was kind of required for her doing this; the last thing she wanted was for any of the owners thinking she thought they were mistreating their precious centaurs – even if she really did think that. Unfortunately, a centaur trailer was expensive, and even if she had one it’d require a big heavy-duty truck in order to pull it and the many tons of centaur she could end up having inside it. All she had was a baby pickup, and it was all she was comfortable driving.

“Forget that for now. Lessee…” she circled the next Thursday on her calendar. “That’s a good day for this, I don’t have anything else happening then.” Opening a drawer, she pulled out her notebook. “So who’re the draft centaurs again?” She used “draft centaur” as a way to refer to any centaur whose horse-bodies looked like they could easily belong to Clydesdales or even Shires, the ones who towered over her to the point where even their withers were just above her head.

 _Rock Tobias._ He was fine for now, she saw him two weeks ago.

 _Goliath Steven._ She ought to call him in, last time she’d seen him he’d had a strained shoulder. Thought parent to deed, she rang the number and got an all-clear for him to be brought over for an “event.”

 _Logan._ Kristie sighed. “That stupid F-H-whatever…I don’t know how his owners thought that that was okay. I’d better call and see if that’s changed at all.” She picked up her phone again and dialed the number.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Hello, this is Kristie. You remember me, I’d requested Merry for a party last month?”

“ _Ah, yes. So nice to hear from you again. What can I do for you?_ ”

“I’d like to know if Logan’s free for an event next Thursday.” She braced herself for some bad news.

“ _Let me see…actually, yes. His schedule just recently got cleared up._ ”

She sat for a second in shock.

“ _He’s still rather tired, but he’s worked through that before. Shall I put him down for you?_ ”

“Ah…yes. Yes, that’ll do nicely.” A couple of pleasantries later, and she hung up. Then she knocked over her chair as she leaped up and cheered. “Finally!”

When she calmed down, she went to make sure she had everything she'd need for that event. Worker's Spa Days were always extremely labor-intensive for her, because she was only one woman who people still mistook for a teenager, and even pony-centaurs were big. They were satisfying, but she always had to be careful how many draft centaurs she had over at once because of how much work they were to pamper.

Everything was fine, she had enough supplies. Setting that aside, she considered her other projects.

Helping ponies was easy enough, since most ponies were only rented out for children's parties. Sure, some had actual jobs - Corbin pulled carts, so trussed up that he could barely do anything other than walk - but that wasn't all that common. The biggest issue she had with throwing parties was that she frankly didn't like human kids: too noisy, too hyperactive, barely listening to those who were in charge (and that last one was the parents' fault in her opinion, not bothering to train their kids in how to properly behave).

Draft centaurs were frequently used for heavy pulling, which often caused strain on all their muscles. She was glad Tobias was willing to put up with her while she was on a learning curve figuring out the best way to help ease those strains - she was probably the only human in existence to even consider inventing centaur massage, let alone actually doing it. But beyond the physical strain, it was often also extremely frustrating for them to only be valued for their strength. Steven liked to draw, and he was actually really good at it considering his lack of ability to practice, but his owner and grooms never gave him the materials he'd need, leaving him trying to subtly doodle with any filth in his stall. She made sure he had plenty of paper and drawing tools whenever he came, and he really enjoyed working on those while she tended to him. She didn't know what Logan would like, since she'd never had a chance to get a hold of him and she hadn't dared speak to any of the centaurs when she popped into his barn.

Riding centaurs were similar to both ponies and draft centaurs in that many of them only really had a single job. The biggest problem she had with helping them was that _their_ problems didn't really fall into a department she could easily help with: they had the most likelihood to be mistreated in such a way as to leave them skittish. And she was jumpy around people to begin with. Kristie absolutely couldn't figure out how to shut down her own personal nerves long enough to get a skittish centaur to trust her, which was the main reason she hadn't requested the black riding centaur from Logan's barn. He needed to calm down before she could even begin to help him. Thankfully, the other issues they could have was nothing a day at the spa couldn't cure.

Show centaurs were still an ongoing issue for her. She hadn't quite figured out how to help them in a way that they'd enjoy. Sure, she could call them in for a spa day, but it wouldn't be much different from the treatment they already got since they were physically well-kept. What she wanted to do was set up a show of some sort, either a competition or a group show, where they got to do what _they_ wanted. The biggest issue with doing that was, she was barely maintaining secrecy with the children's parties, and throwing an actual performance would just blow the entire thing out of the water. Other smaller issues were in figuring out what to even do, what the prize or prizes would be, and coordinating the entire procedure. Which was a shame, she'd love to have Roman over here to take his measurements and make some fancy apparel for him.

Thankfully, every single centaur she ever brought onto her property was able to gradually warm up and talk to her, realizing that she wasn't about to punish them for it and in fact encouraged it with only the single caveat of "make sure you have my attention so you don't startle me," without even having to worry about punishment if they _did_ forget and startle her by accident. Patton had warmed up so quickly, she could tell he was a friendly little chap. She'd have to schedule another party with him soon, his saddle was done.

_So many centaurs not being given fair and equal treatment. I've got to make life easier for them; it's the least I can do for them after..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when her reasons will come out completely.


	3. Secret Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kristie visiting a centaur stable and seeing how things are going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably call this fic done once I've had her help all of the Sanders Centaurs at least once. Just I'm kinda waiting on the inspiration fic to get another chapter before actually naming another Sanders, so I'm not sure how many filler chapters I'll have. (No rush or pressure, KieraElieson.)

A few days later, Kristie perched on a fence overlooking the Stafford centaur paddock. The Staffords were okay to their centaurs – they were well-fed, well-groomed, and well-treated – they just didn’t treat them with the respect that should be accorded to an intelligent being.

This was where Daphne lived, and she wasn’t the only pony – there were two others; however, the Staffords primarily had riding centaurs. Thankfully for Kristie’s system, they weren’t particularly skittish, and she’d had them over every now and again.

She watched as the groom led out the female riding centaurs. That was the routine she’d observed on times that she’d visited: for all that they didn’t treat the centaurs as humans, they still applied the whole “ladies first” principle to them and had the “mares” tended to first, letting them out into the paddock to run around while they tended to the “stallions.” Then the girls were brought back inside, and the boys were let out into the paddock.

 _Sunshine Daphne, Ebony Valerie, Ginger, and Buttercup Zoe._ She opened her notebook to their names and poised herself, ready to mark down anything that she needed to attend to for them.

She couldn’t do anything for them directly here. They weren’t allowed to talk here, the groom hadn’t left, and she didn’t work here so touching them was off-limits. However, she’d given them a limited code to use to communicate with her nonverbally.

The code was something she only gave a centaur after she’d tended to them at least three times; by the third time, they knew each other fairly well and had a measure of how everything worked. It was all in the way they chose to use their feet. Front-hoof fidgets were fairly positive, while rear-hoof fidgets meant there were serious problems; the left side referred to the physical, and the right spoke for the mind.

The girls trotted out, and Kristie studied them as they cantered across the paddock. Each of them had turned slightly and acknowledged that she was there, and then stopped on the far end, clustered together for a second. Then they broke apart again, walking about at random.

Daphne walked past Kristie’s section of the fence, glanced at her as if asking “you paying attention?” and then set her right fore hoof down, lifted it again, and then started trotting as if she hadn’t done anything.

_Okay, so Daphne’s physically and mentally fine._

The next centaur to ask for Kristie’s attention was Ginger, the second of the three ponies. Her color was about what you’d expect with that name, and while she hadn’t initially been named that she was fine with it. She was a more mature pony, looking about middle-aged. When she walked in that direction, she deliberately double-stepped with her left fore.

 _Ginger wants to go to a spa._ Kristie made a note. _Yeah, I can do that. Not on the coming Thursday, that’s an intensity that’s reserved for actual overworked centaurs, but sure, I can set that up._

Zoe’s new name was because of how she was blonde, a tall, elegant riding horse, and she was the next to run around and get a signal. And hers was a bit more worrying: a simple, spastic kick of her right hind leg.

_Zoe’s sick of being treated like an animal and needs a day._

Valerie had beautiful black hair, almost the moon to Zoe’s sun, and she signaled the same thing that Daphne had.

Kristie made her notes, waved to them, and then went to get a little snack from her car and wait for the boys.

After about an hour, she returned to the fence in time to see the last girl’s tail re-entering the barn and settled in her spot again.

_Okay, the guys here are Sloane, Rojer, Victor and Benjamin, no names changed._

Sloane was a light brown pony, the third one of the set. She was considering introducing him to Corbin, but so far nothing in their schedules had lined up.

Rojer, Victor and Benjamin were all riding centaurs, although Ben also sometimes pulled carriages. They were more or less the same shade of brown, just Victor was Appaloosa and Rojer had a white foot.

Sloane stomped his right back hoof so hard into the ground that Kristie was pretty sure he’d left a print. _He must be bored out of his mind._

Benjamin spent a little time standing in the center of the paddock, all his weight on his right side as he alternately lifted and set down the fore and hind feet on his left. He only kept that up for about five seconds and then just shrugged and continued walking, but it was enough for Kristie. _He needs a physical-tending day, but he can’t decide if it’s serious enough to request the full treatment._

Victor signaled that he was fine, but Rojer didn’t signal anything. Instead, he walked over to the fence and leaned against it, keeping a fence post between him and her.

She tried not to stare.

He had marks all over his right flank. Studying their positions carefully and using the fact that she was sitting on the fence facing the same direction he was as a guide, she surmised that those were the marks of a riding crop.

Finally, she broke silence. “Who won?” she asked quietly so that the groom wouldn’t overhear.

“Flash,” he muttered back. “I came in second. The guy riding me wasn’t happy.”

The jockey must have been laying into him right from the starting line. Rojer probably had a strained spine as well as sore legs right now. “What’d your groom say?”

“That guy’s not allowed to rent any of us anymore.”

“Good.” She made a note in her book. “You free this Thursday? I’ve got a new patient coming in and it’s better to have at least two regulars around at the same time, and I’ve only got one right now.”

“I should be. And I’d appreciate it, thanks.”


	4. Chapter 4

Roman cast his gaze around the inside of the trailer uneasily. The note on the calendar for him had only said “Kristie Event,” and it took up _several months_ \- not consistently, he still had his usual events and days off, but still a lot of days. He had no idea what was going to happen. At least he _knew_ what his dressage was. However, Patton was cautiously optimistic about his going to this place, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“ _She allows talking, as long as you make sure you have her attention before talking_ to her, _because she startles easy._ ”

Finally, they arrived.

As a property, it was fairly modest. The paddock wasn’t quite as large as the one he frequented, but it wasn’t cramped either. It was also mildly overgrown, as if mowing wasn’t something the owner did often and he seemed to recall Patton saying that she didn’t own any centaurs of her own – or any grazing animals, period.

And there she was, leaning against a post and watching as he was guided down the ramp. “Hello there! Sorry, no grooms beyond this point. I don’t know how long the event’s going to run, but since I don’t really have the resources to feed centaurs, you can come and collect him for dinner.”

The groom nodded slightly, passed her the lead, and left. Roman fidgeted.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out what a show centaur like you would enjoy that’s still partially in your line of work but different from what you’re used to,” she said as she led him through the arch – and there were those pictures of a talking centaur, just like Patton said there would be – “and I’ve finally figured it out. You’re the last to arrive, so I’ll just bring you to the rest and then tell all of you at once.”

She seemed…extremely fidgety. She clearly couldn’t decide if she wanted to be excited or nervous, and it was making him a little edgy.

They got to the herd inside the barn – both biological genders and all sizes and colors; she unclipped his halter, tossed it with exquisite grace onto a nearby pole, and climbed up onto a table she had in there. “Okay, I’m sure you’re all wondering what I’ve got planned, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!” _At least, I hope you will_ hovered in the air above her head, Roman could sense it. She waved her hands up for dramatic effect. “One word:

Movie.”

They all stared at her in silence as she elaborated. “Glorious costumes, carefully choreographed movement, _actual spoken dialogue_ since I know a lot of you aren’t allowed to speak back home, what do you all say?”

Roman’s mouth hung open in astonishment. And he was the first to find his voice. “You’d…you’d put together a movie whose cast is entirely made up of centaurs?”

She nodded. “I’m a little surprised at myself that it took me this long to come up with it, but yeah. I spent a whole week writing up the script, and…you lot can read, right?”

Roman nodded, and most of the rest did as well. One poor chap, who was dappled grey and could almost have been a proper horse-sized version of Patton, shook his head. “I…I can’t see. My showing relies almost entirely on memorizing steps and trusting my rider.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry, Outlaw, I gave you a character who doesn’t have that many lines, and I’ll be coaching you through it.”

_Outlaw? Who gives that name to a blind centaur?_

Evidently Kristie sensed something, because she addressed the room as she collected papers from next to her feet. “Yes, that’s his name; he was born wild, born blind, and caught when he was almost fully adult. The humans who caught him were so impressed with his surviving so long on his own with such a handicap that rather than putting him down they decided to train him and see how far they could take him.”

Outlaw took up the story, keeping his words soft. “I got separated from my family when I was too weak to keep up with them, and I’d survived on my own for so long after that that I’d forgotten what my name was. By the time I was caught, I…wasn’t fond of the concept of confinement, but everyone was nice, and…well, Outlaw was as good a name as any. It suited me.”

Roman was impressed.

“Anyway,” Kristie hopped off the table and passed out the papers, “here are your roles. I’ll be wanting a very steady centaur of each gender to help me make mannequins so that I can get costumes at least roughed out while you’re working on memorization.”

Roman wondered why that required steadiness, and he ended up curious enough to volunteer.

It turned out that yes, a centaur needed to be _very_ steady for the process of making a mannequin. First, she carefully wrapped them up in plastic wrap, leaving their heads, hands, hooves and tails free. That clingy feeling was unsettling enough on its own, but then she followed up by covering every inch of plastic wrap with duct tape. After that, she’d stared at both of them tapping a marker against her lips. “I’m trying to decide the best way to cut those off. Too many cuts and it’s too much work to put the models back together, too few and you can’t get them off.”

Roman considered his own quasi-mummified state. “Ah…to start, how about on top of my arms, and then under my arms down my sides to my front legs?”

Kristie smiled. “Well, at least that’s a start.” She stepped up onto the stool she’d been using to make sure she could reach their human halves, drew zigzagging lines, and then carefully cut straight lines. At Roman’s look of puzzlement, she explained, “The drawn lines are mostly so I have something to line up when I’m putting these things together again.” Once she tossed the front pieces away from the two centaurs, she studied them again.

This time, it was his female companion who gave a suggestion. “A line down the back that turns into a T shape at the hips, with lines running down the outside of the hind legs?” Clearly, she wasn’t quite sure how to get the thing off of the hindquarters.

“I don’t want to wreck the human back section…I’ll get that off first, but that’s a good idea!” Removing that piece was the work of a moment, and she made those next cuts. Tugging at them carefully, she made a call. “I think that if we can work the cast off your back legs, I can just pull the entire affair off without bringing my scissors anywhere near your tail…or anything else important,” she added as she glanced at Roman.

“That would be excellent, thank you,” Roman sighed.

The sound of the cling wrap and duct tape shifting along the floor as Kristie pulled it was unsettling for Roman, but he dealt with it and it was over quickly. “Okay, you two can go read through your scripts. I’m not really expecting us to do any filming or even rehearsals today, this was just to ensure you had your scripts and knew what you were getting into, and make sure I had my mannequin starter sets. I’ll have them put together tomorrow. You lot can just hang out in the paddock, get to know each other, make friends since you’ll be working together for a few months.”

With that as a dismissal, the two of them collected their scripts and exited the barn to hang out with the rest.


	5. Chapter 5

“No, you shall not take her, you fiend!” Roman declared, brandishing a lance as he reared up dramatically in front of Princess Alani. “If you desire her, you must go through me!”

“Cut!” Kristie called from her vantage point of Outlaw’s back a few paces behind and to the right of his “opponent,” a stunning dark brown stallion with black hair and tail named Pacer by his humans (he requested that he go by Simon or by his new stage name of Dark Lord Isen). She was on Outlaw’s back with the camera because Outlaw himself wasn’t going to be in front of the camera all that often, and she needed an easily-movable stepstool in order to get her camera to the proper height. “Okay, we’re going to have to do that again.”

Simon turned around and thunked the butt of his own highly ornate prop spear into the ground. “What was wrong with _that_ take?” he asked, his tail switching in irritation. Roman agreed; while he did enjoy playing Prince Galleyo of the Thoroughfeld Kingdom, this was the seventh take of that particular scene.

“You were fine, Princey was fine…Alani, Your Highness, what was with that face?”

Princess Alani, whose real name was Jessica, tapped a hoof on the ground. “Sorry…my mind wandered off-script.”

Kristie sighed. “Okay, we can all take five. Have a run around the paddock or something, just don’t mess up those costumes ‘cause we still need to get this scene filmed before dinner.”

Roman took off his crown, hung it on his prop lance, and rested the whole affair against the fence. Then he took off for a short trot.

He wasn’t sure what face Jessica had made, since she was behind him, but hopefully she could get back into the mood quickly. Thankfully, they’d managed to get several previous scenes filmed correctly within the first three takes, so they weren’t too discouraged. The glorious feeling that any of them had was when Kristie called a scene a wrap (she only used that exact phrase when she knew she was going to use it) on the _very first try._ Admittedly, that had only happened twice, but Roman still felt over the moon about them since both of them involved him. He hadn’t been the main focus of the scene for one, but still.

They’d been doing rehearsals and costume fittings for the better part of two months; filming had only started about a week ago. What made things hard for them where line memorization was concerned was the part where for a lot of them they could only speak, period, within the fences of Kristie’s property. Roman did try to do some line reading in the barn when nobody else was around; Patton enjoyed hearing his voice when he was doing that.

Lost in his ruminations, he nearly trotted into someone. “Watch it!” they snapped, half-rearing.

“My apologies,” Roman shied off, belatedly realizing that out of all the centaurs wandering the paddock, he’d had to walk into the blind one.

Outlaw waved it off. “Eh, it’s no problem. It’s not like none of the centaurs I live with haven’t been distracted in their own thoughts before.”

Roman blinked briefly at him. “Can I ask you something?”

He tilted his head, turning his sightless eyes in the general direction of Roman’s face. “Go for it, maybe I’ll answer.”

This guy reminded him of Virgil, a bit. “Are…are you allowed to talk at your home?”

“Honestly, I was essentially the pioneer of permitting the centaurs to talk at my home. Someone called a tentative hello to me, the groom declared something along the lines of ‘you know the rules, no talking,’ and I stopped dead in my tracks.”

“What’d you do after that?”

“Do? Nothing. Say?” Outlaw planted his hooves and straightened. “Don’t you _dare_ tell them not to talk to me, sir, and don’t you dare tell _me_ not to talk! I’m _blind,_ I can’t see body language, and unless you want me to be isolated within my own herd I _need_ to speak and be spoken to!”

Roman was impressed; Outlaw could cut an impressive figure.

The blind stallion returned his stance to normal and added, “It was explained to me that centaurs couldn’t talk when they were harnessed up for work, but we worked out an arrangement that allowed a harnessed centaur to at least tell me something along the lines of “I’m going to work, talk to you later” before they left the barn so that I wouldn’t be wondering what just happened. As for when _I’m_ in harness and it’s super-unlikely that _I’ll_ be allowed to speak or be spoken to, well, they spent a while teaching me what languages I’d be exposed to when working. They tried me on carts, but it just left me way too nervous, so now I’m a riding-slash-show centaur.” He shrugged. “It’s a good life.”

“I can see that.” Roman really could; Outlaw’s coat shone under the jury-rigged “non-slip platform” that Kristie had strapped onto his back so she could balance up there for filming, and his hair, tail and hooves were in top-notch condition. “By the way,” he leaned over a bit, “I notice you have shoes…” he glanced up, “how’d that go for you?”

Outlaw shuddered. “You know, it took a long time to get me looking this good, but my hooves were probably the biggest sticking point. I didn’t like having one foot hefted off the ground outside of my own power, the clanking metal tools upset me, it was…it was not fun, for any of us. It was actually Amy who helped me permit it; she took me aside and explained that since I wasn’t running across rocks anymore, my hooves needed to be trimmed or I’d end up stumbling or get arthritis before my time. She had to hold my hands and talk to me the entire time I was getting my hooves tended to – oh, and one of the things that they took to doing to help me accept the entire grooming process was they gave me whatever they were planning on using on me so that I could learn what it was by touch and give the okay to actually use it. The shoes…well, by that point my groom had gained my trust and also figured out that I responded better to everything if I was explained to, so he’d told me that if I was going to be working I needed shoes, and that if I was going to stay I had to work. It was loud in there, so nobody could talk to me; he just held onto my hands the entire time the…what’s that guy called? Doesn’t matter…the shoe guy got my shoes on.”

“Did they let you hold your shoes?” Roman was fascinated by the process this blind centaur had had to go through, although he wondered who Amy was. One of the other centaurs he lived with?

“The shoes…the nails…pretty much everything, as long as it wasn’t too hot to touch. The guy even let me hold his hammer for a minute, once he caught on to what was up.” Outlaw brightened. “That was cool.”

“I can imagine.”

“Okay,” Kristie called, “break time over, let’s try to get that scene right!”


	6. Chapter 6

_“I shall…take you…what…is the…words?” Prince Galleyo stepped partway out of the frame while Princess Alani covered her mouth in an attempt to hide a smile. “I’ll sa-” his tail flagged briefly, “I shall save you! There!” He backed properly into frame again. “It’s not that hard…” he smiled sheepishly at the camera while Alani surrendered to the urge to laugh._

Roman groaned and covered his face with his hands, although he was smiling as everyone else laughed at the camera in Kristie’s hands.

“Oh yeah, I’m _totally_ using that in a blooper reel!” Kristie grinned.

Filming was finally done, and all that was really left was for Kristie to compile the best scenes together into a proper movie…and evidently find the funniest mistakes to save.

Outlaw was serving as Kristie’s chair, and he didn’t even seem to mind that she couldn’t stop swinging her legs while she was sitting sidesaddle on his back, kicking his side. She wasn’t swinging her feet very hard or fast, maybe that was it.

“Anyway,” Kristie turned off her camera and hopped down, “I’ll need to figure out how to make sure you lot get royalties from this. …Actually, I also need to figure out how I’m going to release this in the first place. But trust me, I’m keeping track of who was in the movie, and you _will_ be getting royalties from this!”

There was a lot of cheering, rearing and tail-flagging, and Roman couldn’t say that he was immune to it.

Outlaw shuffled in place, turned, and set a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but then smiled up at him.

“Kristie…you can keep my share, if you want.”

“No, you should take it. If you don’t want it, I can look up a charity that helps wild centaur herds.”

“I…” Outlaw fell silent. “Kristie…I honestly wish you could buy me. If keeping my share will ensure you get enough money to keep me in good health, that’d be amazing.”

Kristie stared up at him. “You…I don’t know if I could afford you, even if I kept the share of everyone who didn’t want it. You’re a sign of all the time and effort that your humans put into working with you.”

He snorted. “Every achievement I’ve had has been my own. Sure, they gave me a chance – forced that chance on me at a time I didn’t want it – but ultimately all those shows I’ve participated in and done well have been my own because _I_ wanted to do well. Staying with you and being your assistant in helping other centaurs in need would be something I’m willing to do.”

She blinked, and Roman could have sworn he saw tears at the corner of her eye. “Outlaw…”

Roman left the barn, deciding that the fewer people who witnessed her breaking down the better. He was evidently not the only one to decide that, as he was followed out by several. He glanced at Simon. “Do you know what’s up with her?”

“Not specifically, I haven’t asked. She’s dropped enough hints to where I think some point when she was younger she’d ended up in some kind of trouble and a centaur saved her. Going by the pain on her face sometimes, though…I don’t think things went well during that incident.”

Roman considered that. “But she seems fine…” his tail tucked. “…Oh. If _she’s_ fine, then quite likely the _centaur_ isn’t. Or wasn’t. Or something.”

Simon nodded. “That guess of mine is why I haven’t pushed her for her story.”

Roman decided that he’d tell someone back home about that. He wasn’t good with understanding humans, but if they were anything like centaurs it’d probably be better if she managed to talk about what had happened. But he had no experience with coaxing painful life stories out of centaurs, and never mind humans.


	7. Chapter 7

Logan was too tired to truly comment on being loaded up into the trailer for the “Kristie Event.” Thomas was concerned about this happening when he was not at peak condition, but Patton had vouched for this Kristie being good and that he probably wasn’t even going there for any work. He even quoted back something another centaur had said to him on his first party about a “spa day for a larger centaur who was working too hard.”

Well, that certainly applied to him over the past few months, so if that was what was in store for him he wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t going to say whether he truly liked it or not, as vet appointments were a struggle for him, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter.

When they arrived, there was the human girl who undoubtedly was Kristie. “Hello! You’re new, right? Sorry, no grooms beyond this point,” she pointed to the line where gravel ended and the grass began.

Logan grabbed Thomas’s shoulder, and Thomas reached up to catch hold of his wrist.

Kristie’s eyebrows lifted as she glanced back and forth between them. Evidently she’d never seen this type of behavior between a centaur and their groom before. She was quiet for a long time, making faces that suggested she was thinking, and struggling with her words.

Finally, she spoke. “I…can’t make any exceptions. The purpose for the rule is so that if a groom has an idea of a centaur’s place that’s different from mine, they don’t witness the centaurs under their care behaving opposite what they want and get angry with me or worse – the centaurs. I can’t allow you inside under your official capacity as a groom.” She spread her hands apart. “Besides, you’ve got other centaurs to look after, and I don’t know how long this’ll actually take. You’ll have to trust me.”

Her eyes had darted between both of them upon her last sentence, and Logan was shook to realize that she was asking Thomas to trust her, yes, but she was also asking _him_ to trust her.

Thomas looked up at him. “What do you think?”

 _What do_ I _think?_ Logan shifted his weight as he thought. “Hypothetically,” he addressed Kristie, whose eyebrows had lifted again upon his speaking in front of Thomas, “what would you do or say if I said that I didn’t want anything to do with this event and would rather Thomas took me home?”

She leaned against the gate post. “I’ll tell you what I _wouldn’t_ do or say, and that’s insist you stay here and go through with the event. It’s your life, and I do think you’d enjoy what I have in store…or at least,” she amended, no longer looking certain, “I know that what I have planned would be good for your overall physical health; whether you’d enjoy it is entirely up to you.”

Logan nodded and added that into his calculations. Noting her expression, he decided that if he really did say that he’d rather go home instead of go through with what she had planned, she’d likely be hurt.

Then a centaur with a brown horse body – at least, brown shoulders and forelegs – leaned out of the barn. “Hey, Kristie, Steve and I are ready for you, is he coming?” he called.

Kristie jumped away from the gate post as if she’d been electrocuted, causing Logan to startle a bit. Pressing a hand to her chest, she turned around. “I’ll be right there, Rojer!” she still sounded like she was coming down off of panic, but she was also almost laughing. “Just hang tight and get Steven the sketchbook and colored pencils, you know where they are right?”

“That shelf you have trouble reaching unless you’re standing on a centaur’s back?” At her exaggerated nod, he returned to the barn.

Kristie faced them again. “Sorry…honestly, considering how rare it is that grooms will permit centaurs to talk, he really shouldn’t have shouted to me if I was still out here talking to you, but I’ll tell him that in private. He’s a lot more relaxed here than at home.”

Thomas glanced up at Logan. Then he returned his gaze to Kristie. “Would it be okay if I escorted him to the barn? You’re right, I do have work to do back with the other centaurs, but it’d be a load off of Virgil’s mind if I could tell him what Logan would be doing. And if Logan decides that he doesn’t want to go through with this after all, we can both walk back to the trailer.”

Kristie studied him for a long minute. Then she carefully nodded. “Doing this, you’re not acting in your official capacity as a groom: you’re being a friend. I…can make an exception for friends.”

“Thank you,” Thomas followed as she started leading them towards the barn. “I know this is probably not comfortable for you, allowing another human into your domain, and I do appreciate your bending your rules for us.”

She nodded briskly, stepping oddly across the field – almost walking sideways with first one arm pointed towards the barn, and then the other – while seeming to try to keep as much distance as possible between her and Thomas without leaving Logan behind. She was evidently not comfortable around other humans, which baffled Logan.

“And you arrange children’s parties!” Logan finally protested. “How can Thomas make you this uncomfortable?!”

She stopped cold for a second. And then she looked back again. “Actually, I don’t like human children, either. Those parties are always an exhausting struggle to keep everything running smoothly with other people’s ill-trained brats. I try to avoid spending more than a few minutes at a time with any humans.”

Something about the exact way she moved as she said that triggered a realization in Logan’s mind. “…Social anxiety?”

“Something like that, I guess. It doesn’t exist for centaurs, though, just humans.” She glanced at Thomas and gave him a weak smile. “Sorry, I don’t mean to offend or upset.”

“It’s okay.”

They stepped inside the well-lit barn.

There were stalls along both sides, which had clearly been repaired at one point or another. Logan surmised that however she’d obtained this barn, it had come to her incredibly run-down and she’d done her best to fix things up. There were mats on the floor instead of straw, which was probably for the best as straw would have to be replaced regularly. The two farthest stalls had large blanket-covered objects, and most of the other stalls were empty.

Only two stalls had living occupants. One was Rojer, the brown centaur that he could now see had a white foot on his off side and old whip marks all over his right flank. The other was a bay who rivaled Logan for size, likely Steven, who was holding a sketchbook and was evidently drawing Rojer. Both of them turned and stared at Thomas, all their conversation stopping.

Logan looked around at them. _They don’t know that Thomas is safe to speak around. I may as well remedy that._ “Hello. My name is Logan, and this is my friend Thomas.”

The two of them smiled hesitantly.

Thomas smiled and waved, but otherwise said nothing. If Logan was to have a theory, Thomas had decided to pretend the tables had turned within this barn and that he was the one not allowed to talk.

“If you would be so kind, I am not entirely certain I want to go through with this, so could you inform me what this event entails so I could know what I am potentially agreeing to?”

Steven set his sketchbook down. “Well, a worker’s spa starts with Kristie checking a centaur over to see what exactly they’ve had done to them. Once she’s done that, she gives any care that their groom has been neglecting – there usually isn’t all that much of that, when we’re rented out even the most neglectful groom will attempt to make us look nice for an event – and even if they’re well-treated, she’ll still give them an overall brushing.”

Kristie spoke up quietly. “It serves as a good way to build trust with a new centaur to the program, make sure they learn that I know what I’m doing.”

Logan acknowledged her addendum with a tail twitch. “And then?”

Rojer grinned. “ _Then,_ she gives massages.”

Logan felt like his world had come to a complete halt. And Thomas was completely dumbfounded as well. “Massages.”

Kristie shifted in place uneasily.

“Oh, she’s fantastic at it!” Steven responded enthusiastically. “She’s got quite the magic touch! Whether she’s confronted with arthritis or injuries, she’s incredible at easing strain!”

And now Kristie was blushing.

With that one piece of information, Logan couldn’t help but be curious. “Thomas, I’ll be staying through this ‘event.’ Just this once.”

“…Okay.” He turned to Kristie. “When should I come pick him up again?”

“I don’t know, unfortunately; helping big centaurs takes time, and Logan’s going to be second at least in the queue so he can see the procedures he was just told about. Now, if he really is going to be second, I can ensure that I help Rojer first, since he’s not quite as big and I’ll be able to get to Logan faster. And then he’d be done at about…” she glanced at her watch, then at Logan. “Part of it depends on how well he cooperates, but…two o’clock if I get started ASAP. If Logan decides to be last, it could take as long as fff…you know what, safest if you just come by to pick him up for dinner since I can’t supply that personally, and…since you’re a friend of his, if he’s not done you can come in and watch the end of the process while I finish up.”

“Right. Well, seeya later, Logan!”

“Farewell, Thomas,” Logan waved after him.


End file.
